Writings on Creativity

Amy's Writings on Creativity

Even within the most lifeless-looking object or experience lies a wealth of potential. The “real” world that seemed so static a moment ago transmutes into a fluid field of possibilities. With a beginner's mind we discover the unfolding and creative force…inherent in materials, our bodies, sounds, the environment, words, images and – perhaps most importantly – in our experiences in daily life.

Still spinning with excitement from her animation films, Amy decided to use her cognitive mind! Out came a short paper on animation. She explains the connection between the fundamentals of “Stop-Motion-Animation” and some Processwork concepts. She speaks about calculus and dance, the process of becoming, double signals and more. To see the paper, click below.

Process Work and the Art of Animation

When I was a child I learned to play the guitar and piano, and loved to sing and dance. As a little girl I used to twist and frolic to the rhythms of rock and roll, “Oh shake it baby now, twist and shout!”As I grew up, music and movement became my lifeline; a home I could return to in order to find meaning in an everyday world. Today, whenever I feel confused about what direction to go, curious about the world, or upset by something that has happened, I find myself spontaneously sitting at the piano and letting the music carry me like a magic carpet to lands of greater perspective, to my inner dreams and deepest yearnings, and to my sense of connection with others.

Am I dead or alive? Awake or asleep? Is this happening now or in the past? Am I a reincarnation from an earlier time or is it a reincarnation of me? Questions like these preoccupied me as a child. They especially haunted me as a teenager when just about everything about the world stopped making any real sense. Why can’t the world just stay still for a moment? Why can’t my experiences be simple and clear?

I tried to put these questions aside and simply do my life. Wasn’t that what everyone else did? People went to work. They drove their cars or took buses. They went to school or to their job, went home, ate, went to sleep, and got up again. So, what was going on with me? Why all of the extra stuff in my head? Perhaps as I imagined, everyone had similar experiences but I was, for some reason, a bit more aware of them. In any case, why couldn’t I be an ordinary kid growing up without all these unruly thoughts?